Setting Sunrise
by Neelhtak Eca
Summary: Edward Masen was the man who wanted to fight in the Great War and in a few months he would be fighting for his country. Nothing would stop him from the glory of war or is there something that he did not see that stopped him. Takes place in 1918. Completed
1. Author's Note Please Read

Alright, so I just looked back at this story and I realized that I didn't really do a good job on it so I edited it (it's been a few years I know. I got busy and stuff). So it's pretty much the same story but in different words, some things are different but it's the same just edited and such. If anyone wants to reread it, great if not then oh well. Thanks for the interest though. I just uploaded the new chapter 2 so please read and enjoy :D


	2. Chapter 1

For the past few days I thought I was going to die. I couldn't grasp that; I was only 17 years old, 9 months away from becoming a real man. I wished that I would get well, wished that I would be able to pull through and fight against this sickness and help my mother (my father was already gone). _Wished._ Now I beg for the inevitable death to come, I asked for it, called for it. Surely I thought that nothing could get worse than dying from the Spanish Influenza. I was wrong. I didn't know where I was, somewhere away from the hospital though. All I could feel at this moment was fire running through my veins. Every Orpheus of my body was on fire, I could feel it but I didn't see it. I asked for death, for someone, something to kill me, It hurt so bad. _Kill me; just kill me, what have I done to deserve this!_ I wasn't sure if I was thinking it or saying it but it made no difference. Have I committed a sin? Did I wrong someone, I thought I was a good man…I don't understand why I deserve this. What awful crime did I commit that landed me in the fiery pits of Hell!

After what felt like centuries the fire slowly began to leave my fingertips, my arms, my chest; but a new fire started to burn, different from the first, it got stronger and stronger as the fire was extinguishing itself around my body. My throat was unbearably dry, like a torch burning in the inside.

Since the pain in my body began to reside I was able to think clearer, think how I came here and how meaningless my life was before this disaster happened. Things that seemed so important a few days ago are now insignificant. They don't matter. Nothing matters now.

A few days ago, life was much more simpler. All I wanted was to fight in The Great War.

**Setting Sunrise**

Everything seems complicated now for some reason. I feel like I am hiding everything from my family lately, well my mother. Father pasted away in March from a disease in New York, he was conducting business when he fell ill. He died before he could have arrived home. We mourned of course but life still went on. I became the man of the house but my mother still took care of everything.

It's late August now, and it had just been announced that the drafting age had been lowered to 18. I had just turned 17 in June and I have been anticipating joining to fight in the Great War since it first started. My mother opposed it, she did not want young "boys" fighting, getting themselves killed in some foreign land.

I was not a boy.

I was walking home from the grocery store—my mother wanted bread and milk—when I saw the paper. It was the headline for today. DRAFTING AGE 18. I was content on waiting until I was 21 but now, not having to wait five more years, instead I had to wait ten months before I could fight in the war. No doubt I looked content, perhaps maybe smug, on my way home.

Mother was oblivious to what is going on, not because she was incapable of comprehending but because of her own choice. She wouldn't have discovered the lowering of the drafting age unless someone told her about it. Mother didn't read the paper or listened to news. She didn't want to hear the numbers she said. The number of sons, fathers, husbands that died in the war; she didn't want to hear of the number of people that died from the same disease her husband, my father, had died from. She was sheltering herself. The neighbors and her friends complied to her wishes. When they meet up they speak only of a new book or the weather, never about the war and never about the disease.

Mother must not know about the drafting age being lowered, she mustn't know. I have to keep it a secret.

All of my friends enlisted. They lied about their age of course, I was about to do the same, enlist and write down 21—I could pull it off, I was tall enough and mature enough to appear and act 21—until I realized that my mother needed me more than ever. She lost her husband to a disease and losing her only son would only make her more miserable. I couldn't leave, not just yet.

When I arrived to front of my home, our neighbor, Ambrose Gabriels, greeted me. He was a very religious man and very wise. He understood that my mother did not like bad news.

"Edward! How are you today son?" He asked. I could tell on the look of his face that he knew I have discovered the new drafting age.

I gave him a smile. "Very well Mr. Gabriels. Do you have any news today sir? How's your wife? Is she feeling any better?" His wife was sick. It appeared to be a minor cold, but she was pregnant with his child. It may end up being fatal for them both if Mrs. Gabriels does not get better soon.

"She is well. Her condition hasn't changed but she is herself. She has been asking about you actually. She is wondering if you have found yourself a wife yet." He laughed. He wanted to stay away from the subject of his wife. I could tell that her condition was not the same. It had gotten worse. He does not want to worry my mother or me, but still I knew.

I laughed with him.

"No Mr. Gabriels. I am not looking for a wife currently. I have other things on my mind than marriage."

"Ah yes the war. That is what's occupying your mind is it not? I am sure you have seen the paper today, 18 now. Aren't you that age yet?" I wish I was 18.

"I am close to 18. Ten more months and I would be a soldier fighting in Europe." The thought brought a bigger smile to my face. I can picture myself in the glory of war, fighting for my country.

"Your mother doesn't seem to like that idea as much as you do."

"No. She despises the war. She thinks it is dreadful." My smile was slowly fading. She repeated this every night at grace. How can I not know what she thought of this war?

"Well let us not tell her. What she does not know will not hurt her, correct?" He just wanted to appease me. He more or less agreed with my mother on the subject. He lost a nephew during a battle, something to deal with a mustard gas in the trenches. He doesn't want to lose someone he knows the same way.

"I was not planning on telling her. At least there is one person helping me keep my mother's sanity." I laughed. My mother put so much stress about the war when my father was still with us. She was terrified that I would go and die. My father believed it would be over before I would be old enough to be drafted. He hugged my mother and kissed her on the head telling her there is nothing to be worried about.

"Well son, you should go inside before your mother starts to wonder where you have been. Just try not to get too excited about the age change. You may never know, maybe some girl out there will hold your heart and convince you to stay with her and your mother. It is a possibility" Me in love, ha. It is hard to imagine it, giving my whole heart and soul to one person. It is very possible, but I do not believe love will come to me soon. And even if I do, I doubt it will be strong enough to hold me back from war.

"We will see what will happen with that Mr. Gabriels. I will let you know the moment I fall in love with a girl." I gave him a smile. Everyone thinks that some sort of higher power will stop me from entering this war. Nothing will stop me from helping my country in the time of need. I am determined to go and I am determined to return. I will not die so easily.

I entered my home. Mother just finished cooking dinner. It smelled like mashed potatoes with pork. I didn't realize I was so hungry before.

I went into the kitchen and kissed my mother on the cheek. I put away the milk and bread.

"So my son returned. I thought you snuck off to meet with one of your mischievous friends and cause some trouble." She smiled at me and teased me. My friends always caused mischief; I was the "good boy" according to them. My priorities were just a bit different from theirs. I know they didn't really believe all of that. They admired that I can go against the grain, against what the rest of them were doing. The never spoke it but I could tell, it was like they were speaking it out loud. I knew they were thinking that I could be a great soldier one day.

"I am sorry mother. Mr. Gabriels and I were speaking before I entered."

"Of what were you speaking of? Was it an interesting conversation?" She asked. She was curious of course. Mr. Gabriels does not come out as often as usual since his wife and unborn child are sick.

"It was not that interesting mother. We just talked about women and marriage." I gave her a teasing look. She knew that I wasn't looking for love but everyone else was looking for me.

"Ah yes. So did he prepare a meeting with his sister's husband's niece?" She gave me back that teasing look

"Surprisingly no. He just said someone is out there for me. I find it hard to believe." She walked over to me and put her hands on my face.

"Do not worry son. There is someone for you. Even if you have to wait one hundred years to find her, you will find her." She kissed my forehead. "But of course if it takes you one hundred years then you mustn't be picky. But I do want to be there for the wedding of course." I had to laugh.

"I am sure one hundred years from now I would be married and you would not have to worry any more about your son finding love." She laughed and went to put the table together for dinner.

"What else am I supposed to do but worry about my only child?" She continued to put the table together with a smile. I am glad she hasn't found out about the drafting age, my mother seems happier now for some reason. I would not want to take that away from her and have more unnecessary worry about her only son. Before we ate, mother said grace but this time she did not mention the war, she just hoped that I would find that one person who could hold me down. Perhaps she was referring to the war. I'm not sure.

After dinner I helped mother clean up the room and clean the dishes. When we finished she went upstairs to sleep for the night. She kissed me on my cheek and told me goodnight. I went upstairs to my room as well and got ready for bed. I turned off the lamp in my room and fell asleep.

I had the strangest dream that night. I didn't remember much of it but what I remembered was that it was unpleasant and very warm, very hot actually. It also involved a war, not the one being fought in Europe at this moment but an internal one, one that I was losing. I also had the feeling my mother was fighting it as well, but she lost. What I remembered the most was the rising sun. The sun was amber in color. It seemed to have its own persona. It was kind and warm, but it was the cause of the extreme heat. That was the last thing I remembered from the dream.


	3. Chapter 2

I enjoyed the morning sun. It's warm and comforting. I like watching it rise as well but this morning I woke up a bit late it's strange because the sound of the birds is what usually wakes me up. I normally am easy to wake but today was different, I woke to the sun shining, I missed the sunrise. It doesn't really matter though, the sun will rise again tomorrow, in the same spot; there really isn't much to miss.

I walked downstairs after I was decent enough. I was greeted by the aroma of my mother's cooking once I entered the downstairs living room; cinnamon, eggs, orange juice and bread. I really like my mother's cooking but I don't understand why she doesn't let the hired help to cook. They do the cleaning and laundry every once in a while but never cook. I suppose I do know, she wants to feel needed. I could see it in her eyes, the human eyes are the portals into one's soul and I can almost understand what she is thinking by just looking into her eyes.

Yes, she does want to feel needed.

I walked down to eat breakfast. I kissed my mother on her cheek and I helped her set up the table for breakfast. We ate in silence. Not much was happening with us lately. Not much happening anywhere else. Well except the same thing that was going on the past few months and years. The Great War was still going on, and the sickness, the one that took my father's life, is spreading. It was called the Spanish Influenza. I haven't heard much about it besides that it was not a pleasant way to go.

Mother doesn't speak of those things.

My mother looked at me after she drank some of her milk.

"Edward, you woke a tad bit late. Are you alright son?" She asked with extreme care in her eyes. She thinks I might be getting the Spanish flu. I could not help but mentally scoff at her assumption. I am not usually the one who would get sick. If I did get sick it only lasted a short time, a day or two.

"Do not fret mother I am fine. I suppose I just over slept a bit that's all. There's no need to worry." I smiled at her. I love my mother but she worries too much. She doesn't have to worry about me; she has nothing to fear. Although she has been acting a bit strange lately. It's most likely that she overheard people's conversation about the flu, it's been floating around.

Mother stopped paying attention to what the newspapers print everyday and stopped discussing what was happening outside our world in Chicago a few weeks ago but with every news stand there has been an increasing numbers of dead soldiers and an even higher number of flu victims

Maybe she does have something to worry about.

"Mother, I'm going out for today. It has been a while since I have left the house. I could get you some milk from the store if I you'd like." I had not been out for a few weeks. The last time I went out was to get milk and bread and other things in the grocery store. What I have been doing lately was staying home and playing the piano that was in our living room. My father gave it to us as a gift. Mother loves listening to me play but it does remind me of my father.

But today I wanted to do something different. I wanted to watch a moving picture today; I had enough money to watch it.

My mother looked up from her breakfast and studied me for a while. I guess she was trying to see if I was telling the truth.

I was.

"Of course son you may go out. If you don't mind me asking where are you going for the day?" She was still testing me.

"I am going to watch a movie today perhaps and maybe walk around the park." She eyes me suspiciously and sighed. She believes me now.

"That's fine son. Just be careful. I heard about this group of people, who are considered mobsters, are walking around the city. If there is any trouble just remain in a safe building son. I heard they carried weapons." She waited for me until I nodded.

I knew about the mobsters but I never encountered one. Not that I would want to. They commit murders and robberies and as well as many other things for money. I don't want to get into any kind of trouble with the mob.

I kissed my mother goodbye. She wanted me to leave the house. It becomes tiresome to be stuck in your own home. Mother goes out to tea parties and book readings that are hosted by our neighbors.

I walked outside and I notice Mr. Gabriels was not outside yet. That was odd. He was usually out and about before I walked out of the house. Perhaps he overslept as well. I have not heard much about his sick wife and child. Perhaps he is taking care of them. I don't dwell on the idea too much. My mind would go to the worst conclusion; that she's suffering from the same sickness my father had.

I continued walking, getting that idea out of my mind. Pessimism would not help Mrs. Gabriels and her child.

Later that day, around noon I went over to buy a newspaper. I did not get a chance to read it today. I have been looking for any new update on the war. So far it is at a stalemate. They need more American soldiers to serve, from what I see from the paper. I am willing to fight. They would probably need me now then in nine months. It's September now and I only have nine months until I am drafted.

I can wait nine months.

Although, I have been debating with myself about lying about my age. One of my friends did that and now he is fighting along side his fellow Americans. I congratulated him. I haven't seen him or heard of him since.

I paid for the paper and wondered around for the next few hours. The warm summer air before the fall is pleasant and I could stay outside for hours before actually noticing the time. When I did notice the time, it was time to go watch the motion picture. I vaguely remember the first motion picture that came out in 1903. I was two then. My mother and father took me to watch it. It was a play that we knew very well but it was interesting seeing it on a screen, from what I recall. I did not remember much besides there were many people and my mother wanted me close to her and my father.

I entered the theater. It was not as large as the theaters where the plays are preformed but it was large enough to hold curious people in a showing of moving pictures.

The show did not last long. Perhaps thirty minutes, or maybe forty-five, but when I had left the theater the sky had darkened. It was odd. It felt as though time has been moving so much faster these days, it was almost like my life was flashing so fast now. It could be because I have been waiting for my 18th birthday to come in that way I can enlist.

I sighed. I walked over to the park. I was not ready to return home yet. Mother knew I would return late though. She shouldn't worry.

After spending some time walking around in the park I left (I had to leave, I could not see very well anymore). I walked over to the not-so-busy walkway. Should there be many more people walking around? I guess I lost more time than I thought. I looked over at my pocket watch. It was about eleven in the evening. Mother would start to worry now. I should return home.

As I started to walk home I could hear some muffled sound. It sounded like a woman trying to speak but her mouth was covered or something similar to that…I started to pay attention.

"Listen girl. We aren't gonna hurt you…much, if you listen to us. If you come back with us and entertain us, we might let ya go alive." It was a man, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties.

I heard the girl scream under the man's hand.

"If you are going to be difficult we might not have time to take ya with us. Would you like that!" He was forceful. His voice seemed drunk and irritated. I walked closer, making sure I would not be heard. I could see them clearly. And once I did, I could feel anger in my rising. The girl, or the woman I should say, was battered and hurt and dirty and these men are ready to cause her more harm. I almost went after the man right then and there.

The girl was crying. Tears were running down her dirt stained face.

The man caressed her cheek and she flinched away.

"Well aren't you a beautiful thing. It would be such a waste. I'll ask ya again. Come with me and you aren't gonna get hurt! I'm the one who's gotta bring the girl in tonight, if I don't I can't join!" After he said this I knew he was someone trying to join the mob. I don't know what they have to do to get in, I has to be murder, robbing and…

He's going to rape her, I have to stop him.

The girl shook her head.

The man's face turned red. He removed his hand over her mouth and before the girl could scream he slapped her with such a force that knocked her down to the floor. As soon as she was on the floor, the man tried to act on her defenselessness. I could see he was struggling with his tie and buttons on his shirt.

I could not stand idly any longer.

I ran up to him and punched him in the face before he could get any closer to the girl. He fell to the floor and looked at me with a drunken expression. His look was confused but after a short time he started laughing. My anger rose.

"If you wanted the girl to yourself you could have just waited for me to finish with her." He continued to laugh and my anger raised more. I couldn't think straight. I didn't know if I should let him live or kill him myself

He slowly stood up. I did not know why I did not try to force him down again, to kill him. He glared at me.

"If ya want the girl just wait, so if you may, please move out of my way." He grabbed me by my shoulder and pushed me down to the ground. I got back up. I went to hit him again but he turned around, anticipating my move and hit me across the jaw. I fell backwards. It hurt, and it hurt a lot, but this girl needed me right now and my pain would be nothing if I let something else, far worse than a punch to a face, happen to her.

I went back to the man and hit him across his cheekbone. He stumbled a bit and went after me again. Before he hit me, I hit him across the head. I hit him hard enough for him to stubble and trip over a large rock that was in the alleyway. Once he fell he hit his head against the wall and was knocked unconscious. I would have continued to bludgeon him with my fists if the young woman was not in my presence.

I took a deep breath and turned around. She looked afraid; she thought I was fighting him to get to her.

I kneeled down to her level and she flinched. I gave her my hand to show her I was not going to hurt her.

"I'm sorry that man was about to hurt you, but I will not harm you I promise." I still had my hand out in order to help her get up off the ground.

She looked at me and after a short moment of analyzing my body language to determine if I was or was not going to hurt her, she took my hand and I helped her stand up.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" I asked her. She shook her head and gave me a small smile.

"I am fine, I was not hurt because you came and saved you. I am in your debt Mr…"

"Masen, Edward Masen. Please you don't repay me. I couldn't have let you stay with him and let you get hurt by him. I must have frightened you. I'm sorry. I have a little problem with my temper, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I do not mind Mr. Masen. Honestly, I owe you my life now." She still had tears coming out of her eyes. She must be in shock.

"Come, tell me where you live that way I can take you home. I'd rather you not run into one of his friends." I looked behind me to see the unconscious, drunken mobster, but to my surprise he was not there. I turned around completely. It was dark and the alleyway was long. He must have escaped…he must have feigned his injury to have a chance to leave…

I could hear the girl start hyperventilating. She was scared of her life and I couldn't blame her.

I turned around to face her and put my hands on her face.

"I promise you that I will have your life be endangered by one of those men again. I will find him. There is no need for panic." She nodded. I can see she wanted to believe me.

I removed my hands from her face "In what area do you live in?"

She told me where her house was located. I discovered her name was Mercy and she took care of her younger siblings by herself. She lost her father at war and her mother to a disease, she believes it was something other than the Influenza, but she did not know the symptoms. I gave her my home address and told her if anyone suspicious comes around that she can find me and tell me and I would be more than happy to help. She nodded and thanked me again. I repeated that her thanks wasn't necessary.

I wished her a good night and started to walk home.

Mother would be asking questions about my now swollen jaw and my late night. I have a story in mind but I am not sure she will believe me.

On my walk home I started to think of Mercy and the words Mr. Gabriels said a few weeks ago.

A woman that would hold my heart…Mercy was beautiful, kind, gentle, motherly but I still couldn't see myself as a husband, with a loving wife and family, not right now at least, not with Mercy. I only have one image of me and that is in a military uniform. The confrontation in the alleyway was proof enough that I can fight for my country. I want be part of that glory the United States infantry brings to our country, I want to protect not only girls like Mercy but my mother from foreign dangers. That's the least I can do. I'm intelligent but not the top of my class; talented I suppose but not the next Mozart or Debussy. My purpose is meant or the U.S. infantry. Even if there is a girl out there who can hold my heart it isn't Mercy although I am obliged to help her. I'll find that man one day and turn him in, or take care of him myself. I promised her and I always keep my word.

Luckily as I walked home I didn't come across any more mobsters, but when I got to my neighborhood I saw the lights of my house. They shouldn't be on; it's closer to midnight than 11:00. Mother was waiting up for me. I felt guilty immediately.

_The least you can do Edward is stop making your mother worry about you. You're the only thing she has left._

I thought to myself, I really need to stop giving her a hard time. I'm her only son, the only family she has left, she's the only family I have. This is the exact reason I need to be out there on the front lines.

I need to be fighting and helping other people.

Walking up the stairs to my home, awaiting my mother's frantic questions, I decided that I would enlist in the army, lie about my age and go off to war. Nothing would stop me. Nothing will hold me back. I will fight for my country, for my friends and for my mother.


	4. Chapter 3

So i have been a bad author...not uploading things...that's fine...no one reviewed so...yeah...if anyone is reading this...i'm just posting this up to finish it...just because...

so yeah enjoy

* * *

Of course mother was frantic. After I listened to what she had to say about how dangerous it is with the mafia and that I should not be out so late, she started to question my injuries, I just told her I was really tired and I was not paying attention to my surroundings and I ran into something. Lucky for me she believed it.

I went to bed after I showered off.

That night I had a dream… no not a dream a nightmare. The girl, Mercy, it was like I never arrived. She was hurt, beaten, raped, everything that should never happen to a woman. It wasn't the mobster hurting her, it was some man, someone who looked like me and sounded like me but it wasn't me. I would never….

I woke up with a start. It was early in the morning, the sun hasn't risen yet. I was sweating but that was most likely from the dream and the hot night. I decided to stay awake; I would not go back to that nightmare again.

I waited until my mother woke up. She was surprised to see me up.

"Edward, you are up early." She looked flushed; it must have been hot in her room as well.

"Yes mother, I woke up earlier. I had a…restless night." I wasn't going to tell her my dream. She worries too much about me.

"Are you feeling alright Edward?" That confused me. I didn't think I showed I was petrified to go back to sleep.

"Yes mother…why?"

"You look…red." She went over to feel my forehead. I felt fine. "You are a little warm."

"It was a hot night mother. There's nothing for you to worry about."

"It's just I don't want….you are probably right." I knew what she was going to say. _"I just don't want you to get sick like your father."_ I won't. I'd never. I have too much to do before I would die.

"You look a little red yourself mother." She gave me a look.

"It was a hot night Edward. There's nothing to worry about." She smiled and walked into the kitchen. She did look a little flushed…like she is sick or something of the sort. I do not worry about myself but I do worry about my mother's health.

Later that day I went to the park. I do not have much to do nowadays since they closed down schools because of the influenza.

Today was a nice day. The night was hot but during the day it was cool. That was odd. That is odd weather for a September day, especially if it is midday.

Sitting on a bench I saw my friend Thomas from my school. I haven't seen him since the last day school was open.

I went over to him. He looked sad. Well more like depressed. What happened to him?

"Thomas is that you?" He looked up at me and gave me a weak smile. He usually is happy to see a friend, any friend after a long period of time.

"Edward Masen. Well it's been a long time." He stood up and shook my hand. "How are you and your mother? Is everything going ok for you?" He still looked sad. I think he's hiding it.

"I'm fine but….you do not seem so well. What's wrong?" He looked down to the ground. He has been hiding it. I just want him to tell me what is it. He is usually the type of man to be strong, a leader. He enlisted with me, I was sure they would make him a captain within the first few weeks. He never shows his weakness….I just wanted him to let me know. Something has to be wrong. Did another person die because of the war? Seems unlikely for him to mourn. He would say that they have died in honor of our country. But someone has died. I can see it in his eyes. Someone important.

"Edward…you remember Clarence Robertson right? He was in our class. He sat with us while we ate and enlisted with us." Clarence Robertson. He was a marvelous friend. An amazing one. He was one of my best friends.

"Of course I remember him. He is my good friend." He winced when I said 'is'. Something happened to Clarence.

"He had gotten sick three days ago. His mother and father took him to the hospital to see what he has….had. He had a bad cough, some blood was coughed up. They said he had the Spanish influenza and it was killing him. Three days later he died." Today. He died today. He had the same thing that caused my father death.

Thomas continued.

"About half of the students of our school died or is dying from it. Edward there's an epidemic. We cannot do anything. I think I may have it. I think I am dying from it. I was going to try to find you today…to see if you were alive. I am glad you are alive Edward, I am so happy…but I had to tell you what happened to Clarence. We were such good friends and…I still cannot come to reality of what happened." He may be dying from it.

A thought just crossed through my head.

_I may be dying from it_

I cannot have the Spanish influenza. If I have it then my mother must have it. My mother cannot be dying. She cannot die.

"Edward. Are you alright? Edward?"

"Clarence is dead." It wasn't a question. Nothing can change that.

"Yes. Edward we must leave town. We have to leave Chicago and-"

"And what do we do exactly? If half of our school's population have died or is dying from it do you not think we may have been exposed to it? We might spread it. You even said yourself you may be dying from it." I raised my voice at him. I usually never raise my voice to my friends. Even though I do have a short temper, I never raise my voice to my friends. But the thought of my mother being sick….I cannot live with that.

"Our lives may be saved"

"And the lives of others?" he stayed quiet. I sighed. "Thomas I'm sorry. I just…I just don't want this to spread. You know my father died from the disease. I wouldn't want anyone else to suffer." He looked back down to the ground. "When is Clarence's funeral?"

He looked angry for some reason. He looked up at me to speak.

"There is no funeral. 'Too many deaths' is what Mrs. Robertson told me of the doctor's words. No one can keep up with so many of the deaths." I can see why he is angry. I am angry. What are they going to do with the bodies? Throw them into a pit and burn them like they did with the plague victims? This isn't the plague. At least I hope it won't turn into a plague.

"I see." I looked him straight in the eyes. "I am sorry Thomas but I have to leave. Please, for your family's sake, take care of yourself. I hope to see you again." He nodded

"Same to you Edward. You should stay out of the sun though Edward. You look flushed. Have you been running again? You shouldn't especially in this weather." What does he mean? It is nice out.

"What do you mean? It's a nice day. It isn't that hot."

He gave me certain look. "Edward it is nearly ninety degrees…you are feeling alright?" I thought I was feeling just fine.

"…Yes. It's just…I have to leave. Goodbye Thomas." It is not that hot today. Maybe he is getting sick. He didn't look it. I hope he doesn't. I do not want another friend to die from a disease that killed my father.

I went home as quickly as I can. My mother was in the living room listening to a record. She looked relaxed and healthy. But then I saw her wearing a jacket. I stood in front of her.

"Oh hello Edward. You came back early today."

"Mother are you feeling alright?" she gave me an odd look.

"I feel fine. Is something the matter?" She sat up to see my face better. She could always see what is the problem.

"It's just…I just found out today from Thomas Rhodes that Clarence Robertson died today." My voice was a mixture of sadness and anger. He shouldn't have died. He was my age….seventeen. He is….was too young to die.

"Oh my…Edward, how did he die? Was it a mobster or-"

"The Spanish Influenza mother. The same disease father died from. Most of the students at my school are either dead or dying from it."

She was speechless. She knew. She knew that the epidemic was going on. I had no inkling. I just thought…I just thought it was just another sickness…

"You knew?" She nodded.

"Edward…I thought it would be better for you, for you not to worry." I know. I know mother. I wish I could have said that. "Edward I think you should lay down. You look pale."

"I'm fine mother. I am always pale." She stood up. She looked green.

"Edward, please." I had to listen to her. I was a bit tired though, which was odd. It was probably because of last night.

"I'll go." She went upstairs with me to my room. I sat down on my bed and she checked my temperature again. She looked…scared…no that wasn't enough…. petrified.

"Mother…?" she hid her face well…but I did see her face before she hid it.

"You are a little warm son. I'll go get some wet towels to cool you down. You'll be fine, I promise." She walked out of my room.

I had a fever. She is sick. She's worried about my fever instead of her sickness. I was going to go tell her it wasn't needed but everything went black. I was more exhausted than I thought.

I don't remember waking up. I don't remember walking here…I don't even know where is here. It was cold and misty. It was hard to see. I heard little girls singing a song.

_I had a little bird,  
Its name was Enza,  
I opened the window,  
And_ _in flew enza._

I walked over to their voices. There had to be about five of them singing. Why are they out in the cold. They could get sick.

I was shoked to see there were no girls singing. Was I going insane? I was looking around for them. A large tree was in front of me. It was a willow tree. What they say about it is true. It does look like it is weaping.

I kept on looking for them. Luckily the mist was lifting a bit. But to my horror I realized I was in a cemetary. How I ended up in a cemetary is beyond me.

The atmosphere felt like death. It was depressing.

I looked down to see the graves in front of me.

This cannot be happening. This cannot be happening…This CANNOT be happening.

_Edward James Masen 1877-1917_

_Elizabeth Ann Masen Smith 1879-1918_

_Edward Anthony Masen 1901-1918_

Tombstones….with my parents and my name.

I've died. How did I die? How did my mother die? When did this happen? Why did this happen? Why am I here? Where is my mother? Is this hevean or Hell? Where is everyone?

I woke up.

I was cold, freezing might have described it better.

I looked at my pocket watch. I've been asleep for thirteen hours.

Mother walked into my room. She looked horrible.

She looked sick, tired, overused.

Has she been taking care of me while she was sick?

I coughed. I coughed a lot. I felt liquid in my mouth. I checked my hand to see what it was. I coughed up blood.

My mother looked exhaused from worry. She came in and sat down next to me on my bed and but I cool towel on my head. I shivered.

"Oh Edward I am sorry. You will get better I promise you my son." What about you mother? I cannot live if you were to die.

I couldn't speak. Everytime I tried I started to cough. Mother looked worried again.

"Just rest my son. You will get better I promise you. You will not die from this. I promise you." She's trying to convince herself.

She left again. I felt exhausted even after sleeping for thirteen hours. I couldn't stay awake any longer. Everything went black again.

I really couldn't rest. Not even in my subconcious. I knew I was dying. I can easily see that my mother was too and she is wasting her time with me instead of getting better.

I woke again. Knowing for certain that I was really awake. I was uncomfortable for two reasons. The first I couldn't breathe very well and the second the bed I was laying in was not my own. I opened my eyes to see my mother. She was sickly looking. Green and pale. She was sweating.

I tried to sit up but mother would not allow me to.

"No Edward please, just stay down." She looked…sad…she seems…hopeless.

I looked at my surroundings. I realized immediately I am not home. I was in a hospital. A nurse passed by wearing a mask. I also noticed the other bed in the room I was in. It was empty but I know it is for my mother. I'm sure the doctor must have told her to stay with me. Any doctor could see that she is sick.

"Mother…" My voice was hoarse. I must have been coughing in my sleep.

"Shh Edward. Do not talk." She sounded sick as well.

A man walked into the room. He was handsome. He looks more like a god than a human, but that could just be a halucanation. A fever is known to know that.

"Mrs. Masen, you should rest. Your son will be in my hands now. I am Dr. Carlise Cullen."

I fell asleep again.


	5. Chapter 4

So I am going to finish up this story today March 13, 2009 through March 14, 2009 oif I have to. Whether it kills me or not (probably not)

So if anyone reads this enjoy while I write and listen to Panic at the Disco (am I the only one who misses the ! ?)

* * *

Every time I woke up it was harder to breath, harder to open my eyes. Sometimes I didn't even know if I was sleeping and dreaming or just awake. I do not know how many days it has passed but I know it is days. My health is diminishing. I cannot help my mother and my mother isn't helping herself. The doctor, Carlisle Cullen I think his name is, even told her to rest. She said something along the lines of "no, my son needs me." She is stubborn. Then again I do not even know if it was a dream or reality.

Somehow the doctor convinced my mother to go to her bed. She was exhausted and her impossible attempt of trying to heal me was not helping her.

Yes I know I am going to die. The doctors said I had the Spanish influenza, but then I also heard my father's voice so I am no exactly sure if they said that or not.

"He is so much worse than his mother. I don't think he has much time left." It was that doctor, the one that never wore a mask. Dr. Cullen. His voice was the most attached with emotion than the other ones. Also his voice was calming. No faults in his voice.

"His mother might not have much time left either. She was not helping herself taking care of Mr. Masen." It had to be a nurse. She was worried but she sounded more worry about herself. "Dr. Cullen you should wear a mask. We wouldn't want the best doctor here getting sick." She was wearing a mask. Obviously worried about her own health.

"Do not worry about me Emily. You should go home for the night. I can handle things here for the time being." I heard her walk away. These were one of the times I was too exhausted to open my eyes.

"Mrs. Masen, you should go back to sleep. Rest would only do you good." He was talking to my mother.

"Please Dr. Cullen, call me Elizabeth. I have told you this before." She sounded like…like she was dying…I want her to live from this. She might though…she is better off than I am.

"Elizabeth," he said. "Please rest. It would help your recovery."

"How is my Edward?" her voice sounded strong there. I could be imagining it. I am dying.

"He is…weak Elizabeth. His body might not be able to fight off the sickness any longer." I knew this. I can feel it while I sleep. My mother must live though. She cannot die.

"Save him." She sounded strong again, yet still hoarse. She sounded strong but the hoarseness is taking away from the strength.

"I'll do everything in my power." He said. It sounded like…he was holding something back. He isn't doing _everything_ in his power. I suppose he decided to let me die quicker. Let him end my suffering.

"You must, you must do everything in _your_ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward." She must have lost her mind by now. Dr. Cullen is like any doctor. He is no miracle worker. I will die. I have accepted that. Although I wish I can keep my promise.

_I'm sorry Mercy. I could not find him. I wish I can make sure you are safe._

I fell back asleep.

I had another dream. I knew I was not dead yet. This dream felt like a dream. I knew I was asleep.

I was at the park with this girl. She was beautiful and lovely. I did not know her, I have never seen her. She was just sitting next to me in the park. She kept looking at me like she loved me. I find it hard to believe. I embraced her and did not let her go. She smelled wonderful. My dream ended there, no words, no name, nothing.

When I awoke again I was almost drowning in my own fluids. I can tell, this would be my last day on this earth.

I wonder what I could have done differently. I do not think I would change things, maybe just listen to my mother more. I do not regret not going to Europe to fight for the Great War. Either I was going to die there or die of this disease. I suppose I always knew in the back of my mind I would have never gone to Europe.

I heard someone cough in the cot next to mine.

It wasn't my mother.

It was a man.

She's dead… I know that…yet I am surprised that I outlived her. I should be dead. When I do die I am going to die alone. At least my mother did not see me die.

I do not know what was happening but it felt that I was flying. The breeze was nice. My fever was burning me, I felt cool. I must have drifted to sleep again after I noticed my mother was dead. I wonder where the breeze is coming from.

A few minutes later the breeze stopped. I wish I could protest. Tell whatever was causing the breeze to bring it back. Although I was now on a comfortable bed, I still wanted that breeze, or the ice that was surrounding me, embracing me. I was comfortable then.

"I'm sorry." That was Dr. Cullen's voice. Why is he apologizing to me? Is it because he couldn't save me? It isn't his fault I am sick and dying. Is he apologizing for not saving my mother? That wasn't his fault either.

Then I felt the pain. The burning pain. It felt as if I was cut by a sword and was injected with fire. I thought I was dying, I thought I was dead for certain.

I must be dead. I must be in Hell. Whatever I must have done in my seventeen years of life has sent me to Hell. I screamed. I need help; I need to escape this fire.

What was going on a few minutes ago? I cannot remember anything. All I remember is this pain. Not my name, my name doesn't even matter right now, not where I am at, not who caused this pain, nothing is important except salvation from this Hell.

I will never see my mother or father again. Surely they have never done anything to deserve Hell. I will never see Clarence Robertson or anyone else.

The pain is increasing. Why? Why is this happening to me?

The screaming isn't helping. Nothing is helping. Moving will not let me get rid of Hell running through my veins.

I want death. I ask for it, I pray for it. This isn't how death is supposed to feel like. Death is supposed to be peaceful. Why do I have to die in flames?

It has been years, centuries, epochs (or at least it felt that way) for the pain to _start_ to leave my fingertips, another century for it to numb itself.

I thought it was over. I thought that I would die right now. I thought that everything was over. I actually thought I was left in ashes. The fire has to have left me in ashes.

Then the worst pain of all came.

The fire moved to my heart. All of it went to my heart. I screamed again. I cannot let this in. The pain is too much. I have to die now.

Kill me

KILL ME!

I woke.

Everything seemed clear, even though it was the dead of night. Nothing was hurting, nothing.

My senses are so much more alert. Part of a blanket slid to the floor. The noise was loud.

I looked around the area. It seemed I was in someone's apartment.

Then I realized that the fire that was in my veins move to my throat.

I was thirsty. The thirstiest I have ever been in my life.

It is like I was in the middle of a desert and I haven't had water for weeks or months.

"Edward…" My name was spoken loudly. I am surprised I even recognize my name, it has been ages since I heard it…

I looked over to where my name was called. I feel danger, I want to run but….I cannot, I can tell if I run he can catch me and kill me.

I honestly do not care at the moment. I need to quench my thirst at this moment.

"Edward…I am Carlisle Cullen, I was your doctor, you had the Spanish Influenza. Do you understand me?" How odd, he looks defensive, like I can somehow injure him.

_I am so sorry._

"You said that to me before." I still do not know why he is sorry.

I heard my voice. It sounded different.

It sounded like bells. My voice had no flaws, like Dr. Cullen.

"Yes I was your doctor…you were dying." I wasn't referring to that.

"No….you said you were sorry, why?" Why am I so thirsty? "I'm thirsty."

_I…never told you I was sorry…_

"Yes I know you are thirsty Edward."

"You just said you were sorry to me." He seemed confused. Damn it! The thirst!

I stood up

"I am thirsty. Why am I so thirsty?" why am I angry at him? It is not his fault.

"Edward, I have to explain to you….what I have done to you. I am incredibly sorry; I did not see an alternative." Now I am confused.

"What?"

"Edward…you are…I have….you are a vampire. Like the ones you have read about, only different. You have to believe this. Again, I am sorry for what I have turned you into." A vampire.

A vampire….

A vampire…

I am not a vampire….

I could explain my thirst.

"How?"

_He seems so calm for a newborn_

"What is a newborn?" He seemed confused again.

_Can you…hear me Edward?_

What an odd question. Should my hearing be impaired since I am supposedly a vampire.

"Yes, I can hear you just fine." The view….it is so much prettier. Everything is so vivid….How did I get to the balcony?

"You just…read my mind" I turned to him, incredibly fast.

"Impossible." I stared at him. I never looked at his eyes before….they are gold…next to him was a mirror and my reflection was in it. I was…perfect. Any flaws I had in my face were gone, every flaw was gone.

My eyes are red…

"What…happened to me?"

"You are a vampire Edward."

A vampire….

A vampire…

…Impossible…

* * *

The end

No more

It is done… tell me what you think of it

Please?

So i have finished March 14, 2009

while listening to Panic at the Disco (still miss the !)

so yeah...tell me what you think and i might make something new again and...you know...

write again...but...my creative juices are...dry so any ideas you want me to do is fine so...yeah

...im tired

...**review**


End file.
